The Lands of Midlearth
by DDR Freak
Summary: A PPC agent, Morgan Sapire, was kidnapped by Mary-Sues. She has to find her way out of the twisted world of Midlearth, or be killed by the 'Sues... or worse.
1. Records From the PPC Security Matrix

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The Lands of Midlearth

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By: DDR Freak

Prologue—From the Records of the PPC Security Matrix

Accessing PPC Security Matrix. Specify location.

Canon Memory Downloads

Canon Memory Downloads activated. 

Morgan Sapire 

Enter Password.

7310951367

Canon Memory Download for Morgan Sapire accessed. 

**__**

Downloading…

**__**

100% complete

Document Summary—Not available

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"Where is that Sue?" Morgan asked her partner irritably. Lindsay shrugged and peered into the dark forest. 

"Where are we?" Lindsay said. "Is this part of canon?"

"Of course not," snapped Morgan. This Mary-Sue was so dead. 

"She could be anywhere!" Lindsay cried, after searching the wood for over an hour. 

"We could split up," Morgan sighed. "We would cover more ground, I have to admit."

Thus PPC assassin Morgan and her partner went different directions. They were to meet at the heart of the wood in an hour, if their searches proved fruitless. 

Morgan walked quickly through the woods, not trusting the flickering shadows the towering trees cast. She knew that this forest, called Tililthien, was not anywhere near canon. For some reason, the author of the Story decided to put a random forest on the Bruinen River, just south of the Trollshaws. If she kept travelling, she knew that she would eventually reach the Ford. She **had **to get there before Frodo. If not, then Kazlitha, the Mary-Sue, would enter Rivendell and weaken it further. Morgan didn't know how much the poor place could handle before it collapsed. 

She continued through the forest, watching for any signs of a Sue, who was supposed to come through somewhere. The entire place was eerily watchful, and the air under the thick canopy was stiflingly hot. The air shimmered before her very eyes. Morgan blinked a bead of sweat out of her eye. 

Her contact immediately blurred. The assassin hurriedly kneaded her eye, in attempt to right the contact. This hurt more than it helped. 

She continued on, although her depth perception was limited because of her half-blurred vision. She nearly ran into a low-hanging branch. 

"Gaahh!" she cried, and stumbled over a thick oak's root. There was a swift movement to her right. Immediately, the agent drew her weapon and crouched down. The forest was uncannily silent. There was no hint of movement anywhere. The air stood still.

After a few moments, Morgan continued on in a faster pace. Something was in this forest, and she didn't want to hang around to find out what it was. 

"Dratted trees," the assassin muttered darkly as she bashed her head against a branch. She hurriedly checked the Words, and sighed with relief when she found that Kazlitha was still in the forest. She still had time.

At least **something **is going well,_ Morgan thought. She walked on. Suddenly, there were more rustling noises throughout the brush. The assassin dropped to one knee, her bow already out, an arrow in her hand, waiting for the attack. The attack never came. The wood was silent and ominous. With utmost caution, Morgan continued through the forest, unnerved and jumpy. _

A twig snapped behind her. Morgan turned around.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

End Canon Memory Download

One (1) Other Entry Found. [PPC Assessment Article/Canon Memory] Continue?

Yes

Downloading…

100% complete

Document Summary—Zero days, three hours after the disappearance of Morgan Sapire

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March 10, 2003

Sunflower Official was at the scene. A PPC assassin, Morgan Sapire, had disappeared into thin air. The search team was near the Bruinen, searching through an Author-created forest. Before all vital readings were lost, an area to the east side of the forest had been found as the last place Morgan had been. There had been no other traces of Morgan Sapire in the VSL, Vital Statistic Locator. There were two possible reasons. 

The first was that Morgan had left the Lord of the Rings continuum.

The second was that she was dead.

As the search progressed, both options seemed a likely choice. But, in order to resurrect Morgan, they needed her body, the one thing they couldn't find.

The PPC continued their search for over a month, but there were no traces left of Morgan Sapire. She was registered as 'Missing in Action', and all agents were advised to keep a look out for her. 

As of this date, June 19, 2003, Morgan Sapire has been missing for three months and nine days. There have been no sightings, and no indications of Morgan. 

End Canon Memory Article


	2. The Land of the MarySues

[A/N- I don't own the Lord of the Rings. It belongs to the most revered Mr. Tolkien. The PPC belongs to the mighty Jay and Acacia. The most wonderful Miss Cam created the color urple, so she owns that. I own nothing, but you do, yay (that's great), now you can't sue.] 

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The Lands of Midlearth

By: DDR Freak

Chapter 1—The Land of the Mary-Sues

Morgan awoke to pain. Lots of pain. She found herself bound, gagged, and lying in a puddle of goop on a stone floor. She opened her eyes. They didn't open very much. Both her eyes were swollen almost shut. Morgan tried to sit up, but her battered and bruised body didn't respond. 

The room was dark, cold, and slimy. It was the typical evil dungeon. 

_Oh, joy,_ Morgan thought darkly. _This looks peachy. Once I think about it, this whole place seems remarkably cliché…_

Then, it hit her. Where would one find an evil looking, cliché dungeon?

_No. No. No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no…_

**BOOM!**

At that most opportune moment, the large, imposing, evil-looking wooden door swung open, rebounded against the wall, and swung shut again. The whole aura of evil was successfully smashed to little bits. It was opened again. A girl walked into the room. 

_Oh, shizzit…_

She was graceful, beautiful, and perfect. Her dark hair flowed down to the floor, then became platinum blonde, then fiery red…

_Gak…hair…changes…color…eyes…pain…burning…_

The girl laughed. 

"Welcome to my laire," she cackled, somehow pronouncing the misspelling. Morgan attempted to roll her eyes, but they started to yell at her to stop hurting them. They threatened to turn her in for eye abuse.

The girl cackled in her cheesy evilness, then raised her arms over her head.

"Ishy wishy bibble bobble icky icky icky neoooow wum ping!" There was a flash of urple light, and the last thing Morgan saw before she fainted (again) was the face of the Mary-Sue that was her captor.

When Morgan awoke, there was no light. She was lying on an uneven stone floor. Her standard PPC uniform was gone, replaced with a long dress with way too many frills. She was not bound, and could freely move about. The bruises had disappeared. The entire affair put her at ill ease.

_Creeeeeeepy…_

She sat up, and looked around. Looking was completely pointless, since there was no light to see by. 

_Hey! I can see more with my eyes closed!_

Morgan crawled in a straight line, hoping to find a wall. There was a wall, and her head connected with it very painfully. 

_Oh, shizzit…_

She stood, feeling the wall as she did so. It was smooth and cold, and there was a disgustingly sticky moss growing up it. It left a glutinous residue on her fingers. Grimacing, she wiped them on her dress. She felt along the wall as far as her hands would go. In her mind, it was necessary to know the perimeter of the room, but she couldn't leave her starting position without losing it immediately. Then, after dismissing a strange feeling of déjà vu, she tore off a piece of her dress, and then stuck it to the moss. She tore another, and put it higher on the wall. Then another strip, stuck in right angles periodically on the line. Thusly, the strips couldn't possibly be missed. 

With careful steps, she felt along the wall. She counted one hundred paces in the full circuit. 

_Two paces per yard…so, roughly, fifty yards. _

Something comparable to suspicion and anxiety began to creep its way into Morgan's already exhausted mind. The feeling of déjà vu returned, and was repelled with less ease than before. Something was wrong. 

_This is weird…not just weird, but creepy weird…this is vaguely familiar…_

Gathering the scattered remnants of her courage and resolve, Morgan began to walk the width of the room. She walked gingerly at first, for the floor was treacherous with slime, then more firmly after a few steady paces. She had scarcely walked ten paces when the hem of her torn gown twisted around her foot. She stepped on it, and fell violently to her face. 

She lay there for a moment. After the shock of the fall had left her, she found that her chin was resting firmly on the slime-covered floor. But, the rest of her face rested upon nothing, and she felt a chill, clammy vapor from below! There was a large, circular hole in the middle of the room. Once Morgan wrenched a piece of masonry from the edge, she cast it into the abyss, and listened as the fragment reverberated off the edges of the pit. An oppressive silence reigned for several seconds, until it was broken by the splash of water far below. There was a brief flash of gray light, like the swift opening of a door, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. It was then that Morgan realized the doom that had been prepared for her. 

_'I saw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulated myself upon the timely accident by which I had escaped. Another step before my fall, and the world had seen me no more. And the death just avoided, was of that very character which I had regarded as fabulous and frivolous in the tales respecting the Inquisition. To the victims of its tyranny, there was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with its most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved for the latter. By long suffering my nerves had been unstrung, until I trembled at the sound of my own voice, and had become in every respect a fitting subject for the species of torture which awaited me.' _

Terror as such she had never felt filled Morgan. She recognized her doom, the very one that had been written so long ago by Edgar Allen Poe! 

_The Pit and the Pendulum! Someone's been reading too much Mr. Poe!_

Gray light suddenly flooded the chamber. Someone stood in a doorway that issued the light. Morgan was pulled from her position through the door, and into the gray light of dawn.

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	3. Things Fall into Place

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The Lands of Midlearth

By: DDR Freak

Chapter 2- Things Fall Into Place (splat)

Morgan blinked stupidly in the bright light. Once her eyes had adjusted to the abrupt change in illumination, she looked into the face of her rescuer. She then downright stared. 

She had been saved by Lord Elrond.

He was nervous, and for good reason. The characters in Lord of the Rings had been sucked into Midlearth, and were partially stuck there. They almost had two lives; one in the real Middle-earth, and the other in Midlearth. Most of the time, they stayed in the Mary-Sued version of their characters, but every once in a while they would break free of the Sue powers. During this time they would do whatever it took to mutilate the already mutilated world. They tried to do the one thing the Mary-Sues would like them least to do. 

Lord Elrond had most fortunately broken free of his bonds after one of the head Sues had summoned him. He wasn't completely sure, but he figured that Morgan had some part to play before the End. 

"Uh…Lord Elrond?" Morgan asked hesitantly. "…erm…hello?"

"Oh…yeah…" Elrond muttered. "Blasted slang…it's been forced upon me…"

Morgan was completely lost.

"Um…question…?" Morgan asked, and raised her hand into the air, as if she was still at school. "Where are we?"

"You are in Midlearth," Elrond answered ominously. 

"Middle-earth?"

"No, Midlearth," Elrond corrected. "Check the spelling."

"Ahh," Morgan nodded. "Got it."

Elrond then launched head-first into a long, explanatory speech. He told Morgan about how the Mary-Sues never truly died, but only were sucked back into their world, and waited for another chance to get back to Middle-earth. The entire plight was explained, and then Elrond put upon Morgan's shoulders one of the greatest burdens this side of the One Ring.

"You must get back to the true Middle-earth, contact the PPC, and destroy this world. Only you can do this."

"_Thanks,_" Morgan said sarcastically, and ran her hand through her hair.

"Oh, just one more thing…"

Too late. She noticed. Her hands and wrists were a pale, creamy white. Her usually chipped nails were long and manicured… Then, they flickered back to Morgan's usual lightly toasted hands with the chipped nails… 

"_I'm turning into a Sue!_" she cried, horrified. She stared for a moment longer, and then looked up at Elrond with an incredible fury on her face. Immediately after that, she fainted dead away.

***

She awoke to 'Welcome to the Jungle'. How this happened, she didn't know, and she didn't particularly want to know. Then, she bolted upright. 

'_In the Jungle…Welcome to the Jungle…'_

"Waking up to Axl Rose's voice was _not _the most brilliant idea!" Morgan said, her voice shaking a bit.

"Would you rather have heard 'Thriller'? After all, it _is _on this CD."  
"Guns and Roses is good," Morgan amended, not questioning how Elrond knew about CDs.

Sighing, she stood up. 

"What must I do?"

She was instructed to find a Gate. The Gate didn't have much of a defined shape. Elrond had never seen it, only heard of it. Through it there would be a soft hint of Canon. Since Morgan, like all PPC agents, had a good idea of what felt like Canon and what didn't, the Gate was sure to stand out like a red flag, in all fairness. Well, that was in all fairness, and that didn't apply to Midlearth.

"You will do this, right?" Elrond asked. "I don't have much more time, you know…"

"Hey, sure, why not?" Morgan cried. "All traces of sanity have been blown out already!"

"Great!" Elrond said happily. "Now, here's the one thing you _must _remember for this to go smoothly—…"

Suddenly, Elrond's eyes clouded over. He shuddered violently, and when he looked up again, he was not himself. He was far from himself.

"Who art thou, o lady fair?" he asked.

"Gak!" Morgan cried, and jumped backwards. "Sucky Olde English!"

"Come withest me, to-eth my Palace, and be my Queen!"

Morgan was horrified. "No, not that! Not _Elrond!_"

Thinking fast, she did the only thing the she was sure of. She bolted. 

_Run… run… run… run… run more, just for good measure…_

When she stopped, the geography was very different. A forest had somehow sprouted right around her.

_What the…?_

It was a very creepy forest. There were large, ominous trees, and very little sunlight leaked through the leafy canopy. As she walked along aimlessly, roots jutted out of the ground and tripped her. Vines managed to twist themselves in her hair, and they wrapped tightly around her arms. In a short period of time, Morgan managed to get completely stuck and discombobulated in a thick patch of thorns. Somehow, she was half hanging from a vine, and half caught on inch-long thorns. 

_Great. Just great. Now what?_

"Hey, babe, what's up?"

_Who in the name of all that is Good and Holy is that?!_

When Morgan looked up, she nearly had a triple heart attack. Legolas was standing there, bow in hand, looking at her expectantly.

_Oh, shizzit. _(It would not be the last time she said that!)

[A/N- See previous.]

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	4. Ingenuity of an Ingenious Kind

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The Lands of Midlearth

Chapter 3

Ingenuity of an Ingenious Kind

_Oh, this is just peachy. Ju-u-u-ust peachy. _Morgan glumly thought as Legolas **carried** her through Mirrkwud. Or, rather, Sued!Legolas carried her through Mirrkwud.

"You'll like my palace, doll. My dad, Thranduil, is king, but, hey, _I _run everything in Mirrkwud," Legolas chattered. Morgan sulked in his arms.

With a mental slap, she began to try to work out a decent solution to the situation.

_All right, I'm now being taken to Mirrkwud's 'palace' by Sued!Legolas. That place is going to be **crawling **with Mary-Sues…_

At that moment, a most opportune flash of ingenuity came to Morgan. 

_Legolas must have a map… and a map shows places that I need to go to… thusly… I can find places that I need to go… _

Then, there came the problem.

_How do I get said map? …How do I avoid getting brutally murdered by Mary-Sues in the process…? …How do the **Sues **avoid being brutally murdered by each other? Hmmm… must think. Need time._

There was, unfortunately, a distinct lack of time. After a few minutes of thinking very hard, Legolas announced that they were there. 

_Shizzit!_

And thus she was taken into the area with the highest Sue concentration this side of Rivendell.

Somehow, despite it all, Morgan found herself sitting on a soft, downy bed in the middle of a rather…pink, frilly room, and, though the reason alluded her, a _Mary-Sue _was brushing her hair. She was prattling along about Gods-knew-what. 

"…and, so I said, 'Like, whatever,' and…"

"Er… hi?"

"Oh, like, hi! My name is Aralaratharienaiahtlaha, but you can call me Ara," she said with a perkiness that should have been illegal.* "I'm Legolas's true _wuv!_"

"…er…right… I'm Morgan… nice to meet you?"

Then, someone else entered the room. Her hair was like burnished gold, and there were other cheesy synonyms to describe her that will not be mentioned here.

"Oh, hello! Who might you be?" she asked in a melodic voice.

"Erm… Morgan…"

"That's lovely. My name is Lìalin Undomiel, and I am Legolas's wife and true love."

"…wait… I thought _she _was…" Morgan randomly pointed at Ara.

"We both are, silly!" Ara giggled.

Morgan blinked, suddenly confused. 

"Oh, don't _worry, _dear," Lìalin said in an infuriatingly motherly voice. "All those warrior-women and the such killed each other off. Only we kind, gentle maidens remain."

"Oh…good…"

_Well, _that_ explains a few things…_

Then, once more, _another _Mary-Sue entered.

"Legolas would like to speak to Morgan," she said pleasantly. Morgan stood quickly and followed this Sue out of the room. The frills were beginning to bother her…

"My name is Särliwen," she smiled shyly. "I'm-…"

"…Legolas's wife and only true love, yes, I know," Morgan interjected.

"Oh…yes…" she seemed slightly dejected, but soon recovered. "Here we are."

They stopped before two huge, imposing doors. 

"This is Legolas's study," Särliwen said. She opened the great mahogany doors, and ushered Morgan in.

"Hey," he said with a shrewd smile. 

_Shizzit._

'Boom' went the doors as they slammed shut.

*Perkiness of that sort was, indeed, deemed illegal in numerous different areas of the known world.

[A/N- Wow, that took me _ages _to get up… sorry about that.]

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	5. In Which the Plot Thickens Thicker

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The Lands of Midlearth

Chapter 4- In Which the Plot Thickens Thicker

Legolas's study was…interesting, to say the least. It was the classic library-study, of course, but with odd modern-day accessories shoved here and there. 

_All right, I am certain that Middle-earth did not have little snow globes. _Morgan glared at the offending snow globe, as if it would melt by the force of her gaze.

"So, how d'you like my Palace?" Legolas asked casually. Morgan immediately decided she did _not _like the situation she was in. For one thing, the look Legolas was shooting her way was definitely creepy. An elf giving someone a flirtatious look was just plain weird.

"Uh, it's nice?" Morgan hazarded. "Nice feng-shui, with the whole…um… hardwood. Yeah." She scuffed her feet nervously on the oak floor. 

Legolas grinned.

_Shizzit, shizzit, shizzit…_ Morgan's mind chanted. Very bad things were going to happen, and that was bad. Very bad.

_Legolas is hitting on me… this is so creepy…_

Morgan glanced sideways, only to find a silver mirror. In it, her reflection stared back at her. When she looked a bit closer, it seemed that her eyes were a bit more sapphire-like than they had been…

_Task at hand, Morgan. Focus, moron. This is going to take some finesse. _

Morgan looked at the polished-wood desk that Legolas sat behind. On it, there were well-drawn maps and charts.

Morgan peered at the nearest one curiously. It showed a map of the Western part of Midlearth. It showed where the Mitsie Mountains were, where the Path of Rohan was, all the way over to 'Ravendale'. 

_If I were a Gate, where would I be? _Morgan's mind said excitedly. _Rivendell, of course! More Mary-Sues go there than anywhere, so that would be the logical place for it to be, right? Right? Of course I'm right._

"See something you like, Lady Morgan?" Legolas asked. "Take what you wish. I'll give you _anything._"

Morgan gulped slightly, gathered her resolve, and smiled weakly. 

"Well, I'm rather interested in this map," she said, hoping she didn't overdose on the sugary-sweetness. "Do you mind if I borrow it for a little while? I promise I'll return it." She flashed the cutest smile she could stomach. 

"Of course you can have it," he replied. "What is mine is yours, my Lady."

Morgan suddenly wondered why his speech had just become more proper than it was before. 

"Thank you very much," she said. She carefully rolled up the map. 

"Are you planning a trip?" 

An idea crossed Morgan's mind. It ran through very quickly and nervously, glancing from side to side and trying not to get run over. 

_It would be safer to go to Rivendell…sorry, **Ravendale**, with an escort instead of alone. After all, random orc attacks are common in 'Sue stories, so they'd be common here. Legolas would play the role of plot device and kill them all off for me. _

Fighting down misgivings, Morgan hastily told Legolas of her plans of taking a trip down to Ravendale.

"I've heard it's so beautiful this time of year," Morgan hazarded, hoping he'd take the bait. She had a sudden realization that, no matter what she had actually said, Legolas would've ended up with her anyway. 

_Come on… you know you want to…**I **know you want to…_

"Perhaps I should accompany you, Lady. The roads are dangerous," Legolas offered. Morgan quickly agreed, according to the hasty plan that formed in her head.

_All right, this is relatively good. I can lose him once we get to Ravendale, and then I can find that Gate and get out of here._

Morgan then went back to her room, and happily found that the Mary-Sues were absent. She found a backpack, shoved clothes and other necessities in it, and threw it unceremoniously into a corner. Tired, unhappy, and otherwise feeling slightly harassed, Morgan took her bottled-up frustration out on the frilly pink comforter. The poor thing didn't stand a chance.

With the comforter reduced to a sad pile of mutilated pink cloth, Morgan fell down onto the (thankfully) white sheets and promptly passed out.

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[A/N- Heh. Next chapter. Happy New Year, all.] 

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UnDeadGoat- I started writing this fic before I knew about Suedom. Sometime before June, I think. It kinda sat on my computer for ages, though.

And here is where I'll take the opportunity to thank everyone who has taken the time to review. You're all wonderful, great, and very, very spiffy. Thankee muchly!


	6. Plans and Disguise

The Lands of Midlearth

Chapter 5-

Plans and Disguise

When Morgan awoke, she immediately wished she hadn't. She could _feel _the Mary-Sues around her.

"Is she awake yet?" one asked.

"I don't think so," another replied with a high, fluttery voice. "I'll check."

There was a moment of silence.

"Are you awake yet, Morgan?" the Sue shouted in Morgan's ear. Morgan shouted in agony, flailed, and fell off of the bed. Colorful language flowed from her mouth.

"Ooooh," Ara said, shaking a finger. "You shouldn't say things like that. It's not very ladylike."

Morgan glared. Ara replied with a hurt look, sort of like a kicked puppy, and the Sue shuffled dejectedly out of the room, probably heading in Legolas's direction for comfort, wherever he was.

Then Morgan noticed the other Sue.

"Mae govannen," she said. "Nan Nacilme. Nan mellon." She was an elf. It was easy enough to tell from the pointed ears, dark, ridiculously shiny hair, and large gray-blue-green-silver eyes.

"How do I know if you are a friend, Nacilme?" Morgan replied. Just because she could speak Quenya rather badly wasn't going to convince Morgan that this new elf was truly a friend.

"Nen!" Nacilme insisted.

"Dearie, being able to speak in a rather broken form of Quenya will not convince me that you are, indeed, my friend," Morgan said. Nacilme sagged slightly.

"I apologize, Agent Morgan," Nacilme bowed. "However, I must-…"

"What did you call me?" Morgan interrupted, sitting forward slightly.

She paused. "…Agent…?" she said carefully. Her eyes darted quickly to the door, then back to Morgan.

"Why did you call me that?" Morgan asked. The metaphorical temperature dropped several degrees, going from chilly to downright cold.

"You are an agent of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, aren't you?" Nacilme asked, her tone slightly desperate. "I'm sure you are, you must be! I have to help you, help you to avoid Them."

Morgan looked at Nacilme, and quirked an eyebrow. This was a Mary-Sue addressing her as though she was a _friend_. Was there nothing sane in this world?

"Them?" she asked after a moment's pause. She didn't trust the 'Sue, of course, but it wouldn't hurt to get some more information. After all, she never _said _she was from the PPC, and most 'Sues had the attention span of a deranged weasel, so she probably didn't remember what she last said…

"You know of whom I speak," Nacilme dropped her voice to a soft murmur. "The Mary-Sues are after you. Outside of Mirrkwud they have already begun to search. They have orders from the _Tari Palanti. _They will be desperate as not to fail."

Morgan shrugged. "Why be after me? I'm not important at all."

"Morgan, please don't play dumb," Nacilme replied. "I can help you. You have to trust me."

"I have no reason to trust you," Morgan said bluntly, "and I wouldn't trust you further than I could throw an Ent."

"You won't get two miles without my help."

"We'll see, won't we."

"I want the Mary-Sues out of here just as much as you do," Nacilme said, trying a different approach. "If you'd just let me help you, I could get you where you need to go. The geography changes too much for your knowledge of Middle-earth to be helpful."

Morgan raised an eyebrow at that first comment.

Nacilme sighed, and began to explain herself.

"They took my story, all right? I want it back. I wasn't a Mary-Sue before, but it was taken over by some mad girl and I got turned into _this. _I want my story back, and you want to get home. I think we may be able to help each other."

Morgan thought about this. Nacilme did have a point. She wouldn't get far in this world using canonical knowledge, and if all those 'Sues really _were _looking for her… well, it might be best to have with her a… native, so to speak.

"All right…" Morgan conceded. "I suppose it's in both our interests…"

"Quite," Nacilme replied.

"But… how are we going to get out of here _without _being seen?"

"Well, either way they will see you," she finally said. "If you stay, they will eventually enter Mirrkwud Palace. By that time they will have probably already figured out that you were here. All Mary-Sues gravitate here, Larian, or Ravendale. At times they will go to the Shyre, sometimes Rahenn. Popular places from those movies, really."

"So I have to leave," Morgan leaned back in her chair, "or else I'll eventually be caught. I planned to leave anyway. No big deal."

"Well, if you leave, you will be seen. It is a certainty," Nacilme stared at the map of Midlearth. Then, her eyes lit up as an idea entered her mind, and she snatched the map from the wall. "How_ever_, if you travel _here, _you will avoid many of them. Probably all of them… You see, we are _here…_"

"Yes, I am well aware of where Mirkwood is," Morgan said in a dry, irritated tone.

"No need to be like that," Nacilme huffed. "Now, the Carrock isn't shown on this map, but it is still there. So is Beorn. He might be able to help us. From there we can take a path through the mountains, and hopefully be well stocked from Beorn for that journey. There _may _be Goblins, since we shall be passing very close to where Goblin-town might be."

"Well, if Beorn is still there, than wouldn't Goblin-town be there?" Morgan asked. "Shouldn't another route be found? The places and geography moves around, so how can we really be sure where anything is?"

"Beorn is there because he is," Nacilme explained, "but Goblin-town may be there if it happens to be. As for another route, why don't you try to climb up to the Eagles' Eyries and see if they want to give us a lift? Or, perhaps you want to trek all the way down to the Gap of Rahenn? While you are at it, why don't you consider Morria, too? Must be _lovely _this time of year."

"All right, all right," Morgan leaned over onto the table. "You win. But let's just try to _get _to Beorn first, hmm? That could be… interesting enough."

"I have an idea for _that _as well, just so you know," Nacilme stood up.

"Really?" Morgan blinked. "Nice. What is this brilliant plan?"

Nacilme smiled. "It's simple." Morgan gulped.

"…There. That should be good enough for a 'Sue disguise," Nacilme stood back to get a full view of Morgan's outfit.

She had on a tunic that, somehow, was several different colors at once and emphasized curves the agent was very, very sure she didn't have, and her breeches were soft, flexible, and made of some unidentified animal that apparently came in designer colors. Her cloak was silver-gray and resembled the cloaks from Lorien, except that Galadriel would never be so sadistic as to add sequins to them, and she would _never _make a brooch that was such engineered tackiness. She looked down at her boots, which were black and unfortunately shiny. Proper boots should not be shiny enough to be used for signaling.

"I feel like an idiot," Morgan shifted around in the silvery-purple-green-red-blue tunic. "And I'm itchy. What _is _this thing made of, anyway?"

"It's Polysuester," Nacilme replied. "It happens to be the only fabric that is completely resistant to stains, dirt, mud, lint, wrinkles, distinctly nasty odors, smudges, static electricity, and good taste."

"It itches," Morgan tugged at the fabric. "And it smells like… like…" She sniffed the sleeve, and went into a fit of sneezing. "…It smells like peppermint. I'm allergic to peppermint…"

Nacilme sighed. "All right, the shirt will go. We'll find something better. Happy now?"

Morgan sneezed.

"I'll take that as 'yes'."

Once successfully outfitted with a replacement tunic, Morgan began to snatch items from around the room, and shoved them into a bag. She figured she might need some of them later on.

"Oh, come _on,_" Nacilme sighed. "We have to go soon."

Morgan paused. "Hold on a moment. Don't we have to get Legolas? He said that he would go with me."

"Fine, fine, but please hurry," she responded. "I'll get a few more things while you go. And make _sure _that no one else sees you!"

"Of course, of course," Morgan said absentmindedly as she walked out the door. "I'll be careful."

In the darkness of the Palace's corridor, Morgan walked past as quietly as she could, which just so happened to be rather quiet.

In the darkness of the Palace's corridor, a figure watched in silence as Morgan went by. The figure's eyes glowed with silver light, and her hair was as bright as burnished gold.

****

Cerby's Handy Translations of Elven Languages (Even Though There Isn't Really a Lot to Translate):

Nan Nacilme. Nan mellon. - I am Nacilme. I am a friend.

Nen! - I am!

Tari Palanti- Far-seeing Queen

A/n- Yes, yes, I don't own anything that belongs to Tolkien. I do, however, own Nacilme, Morgan, Polysuester (at least, I think I own that one), and probably other things I don't feel like mentioning. It took me forever to get this update, and I have absolutely no excuse for tardiness. Sorry. Feed your starving author, review!


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